


So Glad We've Almost Made It

by thebluecardigan



Series: Neither Wonder Nor Blame [4]
Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 09:38:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17077880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebluecardigan/pseuds/thebluecardigan
Summary: In which Lizzy Bennet finds love with carbs and jet lag





	So Glad We've Almost Made It

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my modern London AU (with a strong dash of Boston this time around). Title from Tears for Fears.

But for her big sister, Lizzy Bennet would have run away as soon as she knew how to take the bus. When her mother shouted at her for not doing her chores just so, when her little sisters took her things and nobody cared, when she cried to her father and he told her not to be hysterical and not to get his dictionary wet when he sent her to look up what hysterical meant. She would start throwing things in a bag (at 8, dolls and books; at 15, clothes and toiletries), and Jane would come into the room they shared and talk her down. Mostly, though, Jane listened, so Lizzy stayed.

Jane left for Oxford when Lizzy had a year left of school. Lizzy might have considered this abandonment, except she was distracted by how poorly everyone else took it. Their father was not only a graduate of Cambridge, but a tutor. He shook his head and told Jane that she did take after her mother after all. Her mother wouldn’t speak to her, because she had decided to study maths. Lizzy helped Jane pack and moved her down and didn’t let slip a word about the irony.

A year later, Lizzy turned down an offer from Cambridge to attend Boston University. Jane drove her to the airport.

…

Things were better in Boston. She spent half her time feeling she was dramatically lost and out of place, but she spent the rest of it feeling like she was finally free. On a tearful Skype call, she helped Jane decide not to move back home when she graduated. At the end of her sophomore year, Lizzy took her exams early to fly home and attend graduation, then move her sister to a shoebox flat in York for her teaching course. They lived together that summer. Lizzy felt as she never quite had before—she came home at the end of the day to someone who loved her and would be kind to her. Leaving for Boston in the fall hurt more than it ever had.

…

All this in mind, Lizzy decided to make England her home base. Jane had moved to London, and the two sisters decided to find a flat together. Lizzy traveled often between home and the States for work, but she could come home from business trips and know that someone was waiting for her, would be glad when she walked in the door. 

Jane had decided she needed to mend ties with the family, and she took the train up to see them every other weekend. Lizzy went once, heard her father make one comment about idiots from the other place and watched her mother pinch Jane’s waist and wonder about who would want to date a chubby maths teacher, and she turned and walked out the door. She and Jane didn’t talk on the train ride home, and Lizzy refused to go back except for Christmas.

…

Two years after she had moved in with Jane, Lizzy got her first assignment back in Boston. She had flown in early to poke around and get re-acquainted with the place before she started her assignment, and her coworker, Emma, had taken that as an invitation for plans.

“The transfer from systems is going too—he’s a little quiet but his work is excellent. I’ll give him your information and maybe you could show him around? I don’t think he’s done much traveling for the past few years.”

Lizzy generally didn’t believe in Emma’s meddling, but she was sympathetic. It had to be a disorienting experience, and if she could help she’d be glad to. She went down to the hotel lobby early to meet him, and found a man in a suit on the phone.

“Really, Charles, I don’t care what Emma says. I would rather not go out with a camera strapped on my chest and follow the yellow brick road between a lot of buildings that are probably newer than my own house. Especially not with some idiot who actually wants to do that while jet-lagged. Yes, Charles, I’m sure she’s tolerable. That’s not the point.”

Suddenly feeling far less helpful, Lizzie walked up to him and stood looking at him until he ended his phone call, at which point she smiled brightly at him. “Hello, you must be Mr. Darcy!” He looked vaguely ill, which she took as a point in her favor. “I think Emma mentioned me, I’m Elizabeth Bennet.” He shook her hand and muttered something perfunctory. She forged ahead. “I was thinking of heading up to a bakery I love in the North End, but I understand you probably haven’t spent four years living here, so if you would rather do the Freedom Trail, I’ll certainly leave you to it. Just make sure to follow the red bricks—Boston is a maze when there’s no one to show you around.” He said something about being fine (while looking very not-fine), and she nodded. “Well, call me if you get turned around and need help.” Lizzy enjoyed walking away more than she probably should have.

Her impression of Mr. Darcy did not improve. She didn’t work directly with him, but the out-of-towners went out for dinner or drinks together most nights, and weekends when they weren’t working sometimes even got out to do other things. Mr. Darcy seemed hard-pressed to stay at anything for more than half an hour, and generally left to take a phone call. When they all went to a Red Sox game, he showed up in a suit, had the temerity to look judgmentally at her in her in her baseball cap, and left before “Sweet Caroline” played. At the end of the month, she went home and hoped never to be assigned to the same anything as him.

…

Four months later, a very jet-lagged Lizzy pounded on the door of her flat because she didn’t want to disassemble half of her suitcase in the hall searching for her key. A man she never wanted to see again answered the door.

“This had better be some really funky side effect from the dramamine.” She muttered to herself.

Mr. Darcy had just opened the door to her own flat, and was staring at her like she had just arrived from a parallel universe. “Elizabeth Bennet?”

“You’re acting like I’m the one who popped up out of your flat like some terrifying corporate jack-in-the-box,” she protested. “I think I get to ask the questions. First, what the—(she actually managed to censor herself)—what in the name of all that is holy are you doing in my flat.” She unconsciously rose to her tiptoes, trying to peer around him for Jane. Then she stopped. “Wait, you’re not the one dating my sister, are you?”

He sputtered. “Wait, who’s sister?”

“Who do you think lives here? It’s Jane and me.”

“You’re Jane’s sister?”

She pushed past him. “And flatmate. I’m terribly sorry to be rude, but honestly if I carry any of this luggage for much longer, I’ll fall over.” Dropping the bags in the entryway, she continued to the kitchen, where she found her sister and her friends and another male she definitely did not know and forewent processing any of this to hug Jane until she felt like a stable, sane human again. (And then meet Jane’s boyfriend because her jet lag wasn’t quite an excuse for ignoring him.)

…

Lizzy bumped into Darcy every now and again, occasionally coming and going from work but more often when spending time with Jane and Charlie. He almost seemed to be trying to be friendly—at least by comparison to what his behavior had been in Boston—and she was honestly confused. If there was any reason for them to be friends, it would have been in Boston where he didn’t have any other recourse. Surely he had to have plenty of people in London who he would rather talk to. And if he didn’t , she wasn’t terribly inclined to go out of her way for someone who wouldn’t at least attempt a halfhearted rendition of “Sweet Caroline”at a Sox game.

Jane asked that her sister be nice, so Lizzy was. She didn’t exactly buy Jane’s theory that Darcy was shy (his brand of aggressively antisocial had to be at least a little intentional). But Jane asked.

Then one day Lizzy, coming back from lunch, walked past Darcy standing outside their company’s building and heard him on the phone. “No, it’s your call. I just think it would be for the best. For you and for her.”

The next day, Jane called her. She was crying too hard to be understood. And suddenly Lizzy knew.

She next encountered Darcy at a work function three weeks later. They were leaving at the same time, headed in the same direction, and she couldn’t think of an excuse. He wasn’t threatening, at least. She thought she was probably more of a threat to him at this juncture.

Darcy broke the silence. “Did you enjoy the party?”

She swore internally. Apparently he was in a chatty mood. “It was tolerable.”

“Yes, I suppose.” They walked down together into the tube station, and he stood behind her as the escalator carried them down. The silence lasted long enough to get them to the right platform. The train was pulling away as they got there, and the next one wouldn’t be in for eight minutes. Lizzy sat on the edge of the nearest bench, and Darcy in the middle of the same. He cleared his throat. “Have you been back to Boston recently?”

“What, Mr. Darcy, you decided you like it there?” It came out spiteful and she meant it.

“It’s important to you, isn’t it?” 

“I went to uni there.”

“It’s a long way to go.”

“I wanted that.”

“Look, Lizzy—“

“I would rather you not call me that.”

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth, I’m honestly not sure if this is a good idea, but I was wondering, would you go out with me?”

“Excuse me?”

“I know it’s out of the blue.” He half smiled at her, and the urge to smack him rose unbidden in her chest.

“I honestly don’t know what to say.”

“I know your career takes priority over your relationships, and I’m sure you feel like you have some catching up to do there, after the university you went to, but I think we could make it work.”

She was spared for a moment by the train pulling into the station. They both got on (even though she fantasized about watching him stand on the platform as the door closed and the train carried her away). It was late enough that for better or for ill they didn’t have much of an audience. Against everything she had ever learned about tube etiquette, they continued what she was rapidly beginning to perceive as a confrontation.

They were sitting in chairs side by side, which was far closer than she wanted to be but somewhat necessary for the circumstance. Without looking at him, she said, quietly. “No.”

“Beg pardon?”

“You may want to work it out. I certainly don’t.”

His voice was very quiet and very calm. “May I ask why?”

Her hands shook. “Certainly. I think I’ll go by order of magnitude. First, you encouraged my sister’s boyfriend to break up with her. That was absolutely none of your business.” He started to say something, but she shook her head. “You wanted to hear my reasons?” Out of the corner of her eye he nodded, and she continued. “Beyond a complete lack of respect to the person I love most in the world, who was, by the way, the happiest I’ve seen her in years, you’ve looked down on me and the things I care about from the start. Boston is my home and you refused every overture of hospitality I extended to you. And honestly, even if your past behavior wasn’t enough, the way you just asked me would have been.”

“I was understanding of our differences.”

“No, you were arrogant and judgmental of them. You don’t know the situation, and frankly, I have no interest in giving you the details. Just know that I have made the choices that I needed to make with my family at the forefront. I’m just enough of a decent human being that I can count other people as worth my interest too.”

They rode for minutes in silence.

“So that’s it?” He said after a while.

“It is.”

“You don’t think that’s excessive?”

“Honestly, I think you deserve a lot more than that. But it’s a pretty solid outline.”

They rode the rest of the way to her station in silence. He got up and walked out with her, asking her if he could make sure she got home safely.

“I have pepper spray.” Neither of them knew if the hypothetical target was a potential mugger or Darcy.

“If it would not make you feel uncomfortable, I would like to see you home.”

“I would rather you not.”

He nodded. “Goodnight, Elizabeth.” 

She inclined her head in acknowledgement, then walked away as he disappeared down the steps in the opposite direction.

…

Two days later, Jane fished a letter out of a pile of bills and handed it to Lizzy. “Looks like you’ve got a love note,” she said rather less wryly than she might have a few weeks before. 

Lizzy, who had poorly disguised her frustration after the party as a bad headache, laughed. “Strange, but perhaps not the strangest.” She opened the letter, realized the author, and rolled her eyes. “It had better not be a love letter.” She took it to her bedroom to read in private anyways.

“Dear Elizabeth,

“Please don’t worry that I will renew any of the unwanted advances that I made last night. I believe that we would both much rather leave that in the past. Regardless, there were several points of our conversation last night that I would like to clarify, having had the time to organize my thoughts. 

“First, on the subject of your sister. You have accused me of treating her with a lack of respect. Thinking over my past interactions with her, I do not feel that it has been the case, however, if you or your sister were offended by my actions I am certainly very sorry. I have liked Jane ever since I met her. She seemed kind, if somewhat distant and often consumed by her work. I do not believe, though, that she and my friend are good for each other. Charles is a very warm and demonstrative person. When he has decided to let someone into his life (a decision generally made quite quickly), he is immediately very much devoted to them. Should they leave, this connection diminishes rapidly if the other doesn’t make a concerted effort to prevent this. I’m sure you know that he will be away on business for several months, while Jane’s job keeps her in the city. The idea of him spending several months away from someone who has consistently remained aloof, maintaining a long-distance relationship of long duration with someone who has not even brought him home to meet her family, seemed like a spectacularly bad idea. Neither of them were committed enough to make it work. I told Charles my perspective, because he is my friend and I care for him, but you can rest assured that I never thought nor spoke of your sister with disrespect.

“Second, regarding my interactions with you, particularly in Boston. I am sorry I appeared standoffish to you. It was my first significant business trip in seven years, the period of time for which I’ve been my younger sister’s guardian and primary caregiver. We had agreed that, as she was 16, she was ready for me to move forward in my career in such a way that could involve traveling. Immediately before the trip to Boston, she had a mental health crisis that made me regret the choice we had made. She asked that I go anyways, a request that I was determined to ignore until my aunt and uncle suggested that it might be good for her to have some space from me and her worries that she had disappointed me and was holding me back from what I wanted to do. I was unhappy with both the suggestion and the recommendation, but I was at a loss for what to do otherwise, and they at least had successfully raised my cousins. As you might assume, given the circumstances, I was somewhat distracted. I spent most waking hours outside work on the phone with my sister, or with my aunt and uncle talking about her. I nearly flew home early multiple times. My behavior would have been the same regardless of the place or people. 

“I am sorry to have offended you with my comments about your family. I have seen that you and your sister do care for one another, but the complete absence of other family members, as well as your long periods of absence from your sister’s life, does give me pause. I understand how priorities may differ, and I hope that you and your sister are able to sort out what you may need to. 

“If you have read this much, I am grateful for the patience you have extended to me. I will only add that I wish you the best in everything.

Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

Lizzy had to put down the letter twice while reading it out of sheer frustration. She paced the room, swore, and debated ripping the thing to shreds. She was half-tempted to track down his phone number just to call him and give him a piece of her mind. She sat, fuming, and made herself finish. 

He was wrong. He was so incredibly wrong about almost everything.

About three days later, she acknowledged to herself that the situation with his sister would take a lot out of anyone.

About a week later, she acknowledged that putting his life on hold to raise a teenage girl by himself probably meant that there was more to him than she thought. 

She was still angry about her own sister.

…

Lizzy travelled, came home, and travelled again. She watched her sister get stronger, and held her in the moments when she wasn’t. A new school year started, and she watched Jane embrace the new beginning. She tried to maneuver it such that she could be in England more, and started reaching out to her younger sisters the way she should have years before.

Jane had forgotten to pack dinner on a night she had to work late, and since things were slow at the office, Lizzy left early to bring her food. On her way out of the building, she stopped. The man coming down the hall from the other direction seemed eerily familiar, almost like—“Darcy?”

“Eliz—hello!”

“This is so—what are you doing here?” Her face was certainly all kinds of red, and unable to help it, she immediately began to wonder if her skirt was crooked.

“My sister just started here.” He explained, then added, “We felt like something new would be good.” At least he looked painfully embarrassed too.

“My sister—Jane—she teaches here.”

“I had wondered when Ana mentioned Ms. Bennet. She really loves her.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Well, that certainly wasn’t the right thing to say. 

Darcy winced, but recovered more quickly than Elizabeth. “And how is she—Jane—doing?”

“She’s always rolled with the punches. But I think she has really gotten better. With everything. I’m proud of her.”

“And your family?” It must have been instinct, because he winced again. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s complicated. But most things are. What about your sister?”

“It’s been a rough few months, but I think the new school is a good fit. I’m lucky to have her.”

“I’m sure she’s lucky to have you too.” As Lizzy said this, Darcy looked up at her like he wasn’t sure if he’d misheard. “I mean it! It takes a pretty amazing brother to do what you’ve done.”

“I don’t know about that. I’m just glad she’s in my life.” They lapsed once more into sheepish silence. Darcy broke it. “I’m just here to pick up Ana—her practice should be done soon. She’s joined the orchestra.”

“Really? What instrument?”

“Cello.” 

A group of students with cases came down the hall, mostly dragging instrument cases with them. “I think you spoke it them into being!” Lizzy laughed.

Darcy began to respond, before a tall girl came up behind him and tapped his arm. “Fitzwilliam, I’m ready to go.”

His expression shifted from somewhat uncomfortable to plainly affectionate. “How was rehearsal?”

“Long. We got new music today, so no one knew what was going on, and—-“ She looked up and noticed Lizzy. “Oh, I’ve interrupted.”

“You’re all right, Ana. This is Elizabeth Bennet.”

Lizzy held out her hand, and Ana looked at it as if it would bite her before hesitantly holding out her own. “I hear that my sister’s been torturing you with maths.”

“You’re Ms. Bennet’s sister?” 

“I am! Less impressive by far, but I like to think there’s some resemblance.”

“You sell yourself short.” Darcy smiled at her.

Ana leaned up to whisper in her brother’s ear, and he laughed. “I’ve been informed that I mustn’t hold up dinner. Would you like to join us?”

“Oh, I couldn’t intrude.”

“It wouldn’t be intruding, would it, Ana?” The girl, her eyes strikingly similar to those of her brother, shook her head earnestly. “I swear I can cook,” he continued. “But if you have other plans, we certainly understand.”

It was a graceful way out, and a part of Lizzy wanted to take it. But he was looking at her with shy eagerness, and she was thinking that she wanted to know this kind older brother who cared about her family. “If you’re certain I wouldn’t be putting you out.”

“Entirely.”

By the time they got to the Darcy’s neighborhood, Elizabeth had decided she liked the parallel universe she had apparently fallen into. And then she saw their house and nearly fell over. She managed not to gape or say anything rude. But they had a house in Kensington. An actual house. 

Darcy looked at her wide eyes and paused. “Are you all right? Did I—”

“You? No, I just—it’s a beautiful house.”

“Oh, uh, thanks. My parents—we grew up here.”

“I always wonder what it would have been like to grow up in the city.”

“Where are you from?” Ana added, at which point Lizzy realized that she wasn’t alone with Darcy. 

Lizzy began, “Meryton. It’s a small town on the very northern edge of Hertfordshire.”

Darcy, opening the front door, looked over his shoulder as Ana asked. “That’s not so far from Cambridge, is it?”

“It isn’t. My father works there.”

The trio walked in, Darcy dropping his keys on the hook and slipping off his shoes before looking at Lizzy. “I didn’t know that about your dad.”

“Oh, he was a graduate and everything, and now he tutors.” She didn’t say anymore, and followed them into the kitchen.

“It’s a beautiful part of the country. I enjoyed living there.”

“I got out about as fast as I could.” Lizzy realized how it sounded halfway through and tried to laugh. “But really, what was growing up in London like?”

“Well, I liked spending holidays with our family in Derbyshire the best, but we used to go for these long walks in the park on Sundays—do you remember, Ana?”

Ana remembered some, and Darcy added on a little more, and when Ana teased him about falling into a fountain when he was 17, Lizzy was surprised into laughter, and even more surprised when he, bright red, started to laugh too.

It was strange to see him in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables for the salad and stirring sauce in the pan, telling Ana to get started on her homework. When Lizzy offered to help, she found herself with a glass of wine in her hand, sitting on the counter, and in his words, “supervising.” She protested and he laughed. “It’s just that I don’t want you this close to me with a knife.” Lizzy was stunned into silence for a moment, then laughed so hard she nearly fell off the counter. She looked over at him, and found him looking back, with an expression somewhere between tenderness and surprise. He blushed and stirred the sauce. A moment later he turned, lifting the spoon in one hand and cupping his other underneath it. “Here, what do you think?”

Uncertain, Lizzy leaned forward to taste it, realizing as her lips closed over the tip of the spoon precisely what the scene must look like. She pulled back quickly. “It’s really good! I like it like that.” He was still standing right beside her, his legs just a hair’s breadth away from hers. He started to step back a moment after she had, but on an impulse she lifted her hand to touch his arm. He looked back up and she realized she hadn’t thought that move through at all. She improvised. “You know, it’s pretty brave to be making tomato sauce in a white shirt.”

“Well, pasta night is an institution.” 

“Oh really?”

“First thing I learned to cook when we were on our own.”

“You two are sweet.”

“Ana’s a good kid.”

“You take good care of her.” Steeling herself, Lizzy continued, “I think I underestimated you.”

Darcy looked at her for a long moment, then turned back to the stove and said casually, “I think you might have had a little too much of that wine.”

“Well, if the pasta’s bad I’ll change my mind.”

“Duly noted.”

The pasta wasn’t bad. The conversation was better. She realized, far later than she would have liked, that Darcy had a good sense of humor. He wasn’t sardonic with his sister—he teased her about getting her fifth dress code violation in a row for forgetting her tie, but when she stammered through an explanation of her paralytically embarrassing math class, he smiled and found a reason why it wouldn’t be that bad tomorrow. They were a family, and every now and again she would feel as if she had walked in on something very private, but then Darcy would smile at her and draw her back in and somehow it would feel nearly like home.

She insisted on helping clear up afterwards, and Darcy sent Ana to do her homework while he washed dishes and Lizzy dried. The task done, Darcy offered Lizzy coffee.

“That’s beautifully American of you.”

“I thought it might seem homely.”

“I’d love to, but I probably should get home.”

“Really, it’s not any trouble.”

“It’s kind of you, but I’d better go. Jane will be getting home soon.”

“Well, can I see you home? If you wouldn’t mind, of course.”

“You’re already at home; it would be so much trouble—”

“I won’t force my company on you, but really I would like to.”

“Well, then, I suppose I won’t say no.”

He left her at her flat with the expressed wish he could see her again soon (and exchanged phone numbers to ensure that it happened).

An hour later, Jane walked in to find Lizzy listening to Tears for Fears and reorganizing her bookshelf. “Any particular reason ‘Everybody Wants to Rule the World’ is going to get us a noise complaint?”

Lizzy fumbled for the speaker. “What?”

“You’re doing all your moody things. What’s going on?”

“Nothing I’m ready to talk about yet. But it’s good.”

“If you’re sure.”

…

The next day, Darcy asked Lizzy what her plans the next week were, which culminated in tea a week following. She forced herself to go straight from work so that she couldn’t second-guess what to wear, then bit her bottom lip enough on the way that she found herself using her phone camera as a mirror to reapply lipstick in the Tube. Realizing she was very nearly late saved her more worries besides getting there on time, which in the end was probably a small mercy.

Darcy was there in his black suit looking inscrutable, which really didn’t help at all as she fumbled with her purse and her jacket and her chair—all of which he made a gesture towards helping, but she waved off. They got their tea and scones and Darcy asked about her day at work, which was very polite and probably even a good conversation starter for someone who didn’t feel quite as self-conscious as she did. 

What saved them, in the end, was the jam. Darcy got a little smudge of it above the left corner of his lip, and it completely contradicted the ridiculously prim air of everything else about him such that Elizabeth just had to laugh. Hesitating a moment at his look of confusion, then thinking that it had been awkward enough already, she leaned across the little table to swipe at it with her thumb. Darcy blushed. Lizzy shook her head, “Personally, I think jam’s a good look, but it can be a tough crowd around these parts.”

For a moment, she was afraid that she had mortally offended him, before he shook his head. “I’ve always preferred a clotted cream mustache.”

Two hours later, he offered to walk Lizzy home again, and she accepted without hesitation. She didn’t ask him up—they didn’t kiss on the stoop—but he gave her a peck on the cheek and they agreed they would like to do it again sometime. He had been fastidious in calling her Elizabeth; she told him that he could call her Lizzy.

…

Lizzy wasn’t sure whether the next Saturday would count as a third date, a second, or a first. Or honestly whether it was a date at all. She did know, though, that it was to a restaurant, and that he had offered to come pick her up, which made her some strange anticipatory combination of enthusiastic and queasy. She changed her dress twice, put on more makeup than she had worn in a month, and found herself trying to pin her hair up when she heard the door buzz. The clock only read 7:20—a full ten minutes before he was meant to be there. Very nearly irritated at the upending of her schedule, Elizabeth buzzed him up, then went to open the door. She found there, not a date, but a teenage sister who most definitely was not supposed to be in London. “Lydia! What are you doing here?”

Lydia rubbed her arms and looked at the ground. “You said to let you know if I needed you.” Her thick eyeliner had smudged and a lock of messy hair fell across her face.

“Yes, I just—shouldn’t you be in a different county right now? Here, come in and I’ll put the kettle on.” Her little sister shuffled over to the couch, and with the kettle heating Lizzy sat down next to her. “You look a little the worse for wear. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“Not particularly.”

“Well, I did have plans this evening but I’m glad to cancel them if I need to.” She really wasn’t, but she figured she was responsible, and there isn’t anything quite so obnoxious as someone burdensome about responsibility to others. She grabbed her phone off the end table and sent a quick text to Darcy: “Something came up. Don’t know if I’ll be free tonight. Sorry!!”

Lydia shrugged. “Really, I just need a couch to crash on.”

“Do Mum and Dad know where you are?”

“‘Course not.”

“Well, one of us is going to call them right now. Will it be you or me?”

“No.”

“Is there any good reason for me to hide you here?” Lizzy watched Lydia shrug again, looking blankly at the coffee table. “Well, I won’t say where you are, but at least I’m going to let them know you’re safe.” The kettle began to boil, and Lizzy listened to her parents’ phone ring as she poured out the hot water for tea. 

“Hi, Mum, this is Lizzy.” The buzzer went off again, and Lizzy caught Lydia’s eye and gestured meaningfully at the door with her elbow. “I’ve just seen Lydia—Yes, mum, she’s fine. All in one piece. No, I haven’t been giving her ideas.” She put the kettle back, tucked the phone between her ear and her elbow, and carried the cups of tea over to the sofa. 

She looked up to see a very confused-looking Darcy standing across the threshold from a confrontational Lydia. “Mum, can you give me a moment?” She set the tea down and cupped her hand over the microphone. “Lydia, for Pete’s sake let the poor man in. Darcy, did you not see my text?” He shook his head and she sighed. “Give me a minute and I’ll be with you.”

Returning to her extremely peeved mother, Lizzy squared her shoulders. “No, mum, I’m not telling you where she is. I’ll do my best to make sure she’s back in time for school on Monday, yeah? There’s no reason for you to bother coming down. Really, Mum, I’ll get it sorted. You know, I’d be quite a lot happier to help if you wouldn’t speak to me that way. No, don’t bother Jane with it, she’s got enough to handle as it is. Bye, Mum, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, ok? Bye.”

She walked back over to the sofa, where Lydia was slouching with her feet slung over the arm and Darcy was hovering awkwardly. “I don’t think you’ve met my sister Lydia? Lydia, this is Darcy.” Darcy started to hold a hand out to shake, but Lydia threw him a peace sign and took out her phone. “Lydia decided to pay me a visit about ten minutes ago,” Lizzy explained, “So I think I might need to spend the night in.”

“I said I just wanted a place to crash,” Lydia interjected. “You can go be business casual on your hot date.”

“Lyddie, did you hear what I said to Mum? No one is going anywhere until this has been sorted out.” At this, she cast an apologetic glance in Darcy’s direction. “Not you, I mean. I really am sorry. You don’t need to stay if you’d rather go.”

Darcy looked like he would very much rather go, but he shook his head. “You haven’t had dinner, have you? What if I go pick up some take away?”

“Lydia, give us a minute?” Lizzy led Darcy out into the hallway. “Look, this is honestly probably going to be an all night thing, and I really don’t want you to feel obligated to hang around—I know my family can be kind of a lot.”

“If you’d rather I get out of your way I can. But it might all look better with a hot meal in you.”

“I think you’ve underestimated us. But I won’t say no.” Darcy gave her a smile and squeezed her shoulder before turning and going down the stairs. She went back in.

“All right, Lydia, you’d better tell me now what this is all about.”

“Well, Mum and I quarreled because I had gotten in trouble for skiving off class, and you know she really doesn’t care about that so far as it doesn’t cause problems with her and the other mums. But apparently it did, so I was grounded, and I figured that that was a load of rubbish so I snuck out the window and Kitty covered for me.”

“When was that?”

“Last night.”

“And you’ve been in London how long?”

Lydia picked up her tea and took a long sip. “Some people from school were coming down last night for a bit of fun and I came with them.”

“Why does that sound like something no parents knew about?”

“Lizzy—“

“Were drugs or alcohol involved?”

“Really, I think—“

“I want an answer to that one.”

“Yes.” Lydia shook her head, “But I was only drinking.” 

“Underage.”

“Some of my friends aren’t.”

“How long were you with them?”

“I don’t remember. We were out and we got separated.”

“So you were wandering around London drunk and alone last night?” Lizzy was torn between slapping her sister and pulling her close.

“I lost my wallet along the way.”

“Thank God that’s the worst of it. Why did it take you so long to come here?”

“I thought it would be better if I could sort it out myself.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t try another night alone. I can buy your ticket home and give you a bit in case you wind up in a tough spot.”

“I don’t want to go home.”

“Well, I understand that. But if you can tough out a few more months you can get out of school and there’ll be nothing to make you stay.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Lydia, I think you’re talking to the person most likely to know exactly what you mean when you say that.”

“But you’ve been out for years.”

“And I had to grow up there same as you. Look, as long as you need a place my couch is here, but it’s not a good long-term solution.”

The buzzer went off. “Your boyfriend’s back.” Lydia said. “You’d better get that.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Lizzy replied absentmindedly while getting off the couch. “Be nice, now, won’t you?”

Darcy had 2 pizza boxes. “I realized I didn’t know what you’d like—“

“So you played the Boston card again?” Lizzy laughed, “That’s always a good idea. Let me get the plates.” She traded Darcy a plate for the pizzas, and rather than protest, he stayed.

The Bennet sisters sat on the couch together, with Darcy in an armchair facing them. “Do you live in London, Lydia?”

“I wish.”

Lizzy sighed. “She lives in Meryton, where we grew up.”

“As of right now, I’m living on your couch,” Lydia corrected. Turning to Darcy, she continued, “Running away is a grand Bennet family tradition.”

“Ah, now you’re making things up,” Lizzy said with false brightness. “And we’ve aired plenty of our family’s problems tonight without adding any, haven’t we?”

Lydia rolled her eyes and finished her slice of pizza in silence. When she was done, Lizzy took her plate and stood up. “Why don’t you get a shower? I can lend you some pajamas and you can sleep in Jane’s bed afterwards—I think she’s out for the night, and I’ll share with her if she’s not. You must be tired after everything.”

With no very good grace, Lydia stalked off towards the bathroom. Lizzy got her settled and came back. “Do you want a drink or anything? I think I have some wine in the fridge, or I could put the kettle on.”

“Sure—that sounds nice.”

She rummaged around for glasses. “How much do I owe you for dinner?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“You don’t need to—“

“Please, Lizzy.”

“Thank you.” 

Darcy looked down at his glass. “Teenage sisters can be hard.”

“I hadn’t been in touch with her, really, since I left for school. But after our—conversation—I figured that maybe I should.” Darcy was watching her steadily, and she made herself meet his eyes. “So now Lyddie’s here running up the hot water bill.”

“You take good care of your sisters,” he said. “I don’t think I understood that before. I’m sorry.” Lizzy didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t reply. After a minute, Darcy smiled. “She looks like you.”

Lizzy bit back a comment about Amy Winehouse having just finished a walk of shame. “Don’t let her hear that. She’s awfully proud of being taller than me.”

“She does definitely have the height.”

“Well, I’m barefoot and she’s in her scary combat boots, so she’s definitely exaggerating it some.”

“And you’re definitely not competitive,” he quipped.

“We’re sisters. It’s practically synonymous with competitive.”

At this point, Lydia finished her shower and stomped through. Without makeup, wearing her sister’s too-short pajama pants, she looked like a little girl pouting about getting sent to bed early. “Lyds, do you need anything?”

“New parents.”

“Let me know when you find them. I’m here if you need something.” Lizzy got up and kissed her sister on the cheek.

Lydia took it with a good grace. “G’night.” Darcy waved at her and she winked back.

Lizzy sat back down. “We’ve talked about my life enough—how about you?”

“I’m going to California for a month starting Tuesday.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, Ana and I had a long conversation about it and I think we’re going to make it work. She and my cousin’ll come out for the last week and do some sightseeing, so I think she might actually be happy about it.”

“That’s awfully thoughtful of you. You let me know if she needs anything—I’d be glad to do what I can.”

Between them, over the small and long-occupied couch, hovered the knowledge that Lizzy had enough teenage girls’ problems on her hands and that neither of them knew exactly how they were meant to keep in touch after two maybe-dates and who knew what history beforehand.

Lizzy’s phone rang. “I’m sorry, this is my mum—I need to answer.”

“No, of course.”

Lizzy got up and walked to the kitchen, lifting herself up to sit on the counter. “Hi, Mum. Yeah, Lydia’s fine. Mum, what a question! No, I won’t be back for dinner on Sunday. I’ll be back as soon as you don’t talk to me like that over the salad. No, I have an obligation to let you know that Lydia is safe and looked after. Anything past that is up to her. Well, I’ll try to get her back by Monday but honestly I wouldn’t blame her. Threatening me with Dad won’t work. You and I both know he won’t. Oh, I really wish you wouldn’t bring that up. Mum, I have company. I really do need to go. Look, it’s not the time. Mum! Goodnight!” She set her phone down, jumped off the counter, resisted the urge to slam or kick anything, and walked back over. 

She really wanted a hug, and the person sitting on the couch might or might not be receptive to that or other things, but was also about to leave for California for a month. So she sat down, picked up her empty wine glass, and tried not to melt into tears. Darcy reached out, and for a moment Elizabeth thought he might be about to put her arm around her, but he just put his hand on her shoulder. “Look, Lizzy, I know it’s been a long night for you and I know I’ve overstayed my welcome—I think I’d better go.” 

Lizzy didn’t know what to say, so she just stood and followed him to the door. “Have a safe trip.”

“I’ll see you soon.” He gave her a slightly concerned half-smile and she watched him walk down the hallway.

When she heard the door downstairs slam, she went into her room, took off her dress, and put on ratty joggers and an oversize jumper. She fished a pint of chocolate ice cream out of the freezer, sat down in the middle of the couch, and began to eat straight out of it. Lydia trailed out of the bedroom and sat beside her. “Did I scare the guy off?”

“I’d say it was a team effort.”

Lydia cuddled up against Lizzy, who sighed and put a sappy movie on the telly. 

…

After a few days, Lydia went back to Meryton and Darcy (so far as Lizzy knew) went to California. She hadn’t texted him before besides making plans, and she didn’t know exactly how to now—particularly in light of different countries and time zones and other mechanical details that seemed to pile up eternally. Somehow it seemed to become bigger the more she tried to reason through it, so she didn’t text. Neither did he. She couldn’t really think of it as ghosting when he had told her where he was going and for how long and wasn’t being unresponsive (at least not when there was nothing to respond to).

Charlie had a get together at his flat a few days after Darcy was due back, and Lizzy found herself tempted to text Darcy and ask him if he was going to be there. She tapped on his name and started to type, then looked at the attempted cancellation message she had sent a month ago, lost courage, and erased what she had written. She still spent too much time trying to get her eyeliner symmetrical. 

When evening came along, Lizzy tried to fabricate a minor excuse to delay leaving work and wound up finding a major problem that took two hours to fix. She was less fazed than she might have been—she probably wouldn’t be that late, especially considering that Charlie himself was never on time. She’d just go straight over there and not worry about the rest.

Lizzy got to Charlie’s flat as Darcy was coming down the stairs. He looked up, then back at his feet before he did a double take. “Elizabeth!”

“Darcy! How was California?”

“A lot of work, but not much else. I think Ana did well though.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“How about you?”

“Oh, same as always.” 

They stood there on the step for a minute, until Jane came running out. “Oh good, I didn’t think I’d catch you! You forgot your mug.” She held up a stainless steel travel mug with WORLD’S BEST BROTHER emblazoned on the side. Lizzy fought back a giggle. In another world, she’d have made a joke about Darcy buying it for himself. He was red to his ears, though, and she had a feeling that Ana’s feelings were involved. Jane kept talking. “Lizzy, I was starting to worry you wouldn’t make it!”

“Yeah, I got held up at work.”

“Well, come in out of the rain, you’re looking like a drowned rat. I’ll never understand why you never remember your umbrella.”

“It’s barely drizzling, Jane, I’m not going to catch my death.”

“Well, I’d better get going.” Darcy shoved the mug into his briefcase, fought with the zipper for a moment, and gave up. “Goodnight!”

Lizzy followed Jane inside, felt generally dreary under a thin veneer of pleasantry, and left after an hour and a half, thoroughly ashamed of herself for acting the fool over someone who had probably given up on her months ago. 

…

Lizzy ran into Darcy once at work, while they were both talking to other people and walking in different directions. She saw him while she took dinner to Jane at school, but Ana was clearly frantic about something and he shot Lizzy a helpless look over his sister’s head. She thought maybe she would show up at his desk with coffee, but then she realized she didn’t know where his desk was. If she texted him, she didn’t know if he’d even respond. So she didn’t.

A few weeks later, she went to Boston on business. She stayed in the same hotel where she had met Darcy, which she tried to ignore in favor of four years of college memories that involved plenty of other stupid mistakes. For two weeks this worked well—she ate an objectively horrifying amount of cannoli, wandered through neighborhoods that her feet knew the same as her hometown, and told herself she was considering requesting a transfer there. She knew she wouldn’t—she loved sharing her flat with Jane, and she even almost liked being close enough that her other sisters could appear out of the blue at tremendously inconvenient times—London, for her, bridged the gap between a stifled childhood and a rebellious youth in a way that didn’t feel like running away anymore. But Boston was a good place.

On a Friday afternoon, she came back to her hotel after a long day at work and was trying to talk Lydia out of doing something stupid over text while walking across the lobby. She realized she was about to trip over an end table and dodged right into a passerby. She cursed, nearly dropped her phone, caught it, and looked up to apologize. The man she’d collided with spoke first, and she noted the different accent before she caught the voice or the face—which was Darcy, disgruntled but polite enough to apologize—Darcy, who turned beet red as he asked, “Elizabeth?”

Of course the person she ran over had to be Fitzwilliam Darcy. “Uh—hi—what are you doing in Boston?”

“Work trip. Just a week—someone else from my department was supposed to go and then had to get his appendix out two days ago.”

“So you just got in?”

“Yesterday. I’m a bit jet lagged.”

“Y’know, North End Italian food is my favorite jet lag cure.”

“I’d never heard of that.”

“It’s an excuse to eat an obscene number of carbs. Are you free tonight?”

He seemed more surprised than someone who’d been almost dating her should have been. “Sure!”

“Why don’t I meet you in the lobby in an hour and we’ll go find somewhere to eat?” 

Lizzy nearly melted against the elevator wall, feeling victorious and more than a little dizzy. She belatedly remembered that she’d been in the middle of a conversation with Lydia, and picked up her phone to make sure there wasn’t damage control necessary. It took almost the hour to sort that out, and she barely had time to change into something a little less office-like and run down to the elevators. 

Darcy was waiting in the lobby when she got down, and when she walked over and tapped his elbow to get his attention, he gave her the same steady look she had come to expect. She asked, “Shall we?” He nodded.

They walked along near the harbor at first, the water peeking out between buildings as they passed cars stuck in traffic. It was a little bit of a walk, but Darcy insisted he didn’t mind, and the night wasn’t bad for it. Lizzy found herself overthinking, wondering about taking Darcy to eat a kind of food that was guaranteed to be messy, at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant that would probably be loud and full and generally overwhelming, wondering what they would do when they reached the end of small talk—which they soon enough did, even with Lizzy pointing out places she remembered and Darcy interested enough to ask questions. Finally, as they approached the restaurant, Lizzy took a deep breath.

“Look, there are some things I want to get straight with you, and I’ve wanted to for a while. Don’t respond for a minute—I just want to say it. I know you got Charlie and Jane back together and I’m glad you saw you were wrong and tried to make it right. Jane said that you apologized and I really appreciate that. And you were really kind and stuck around a lot longer than you needed to with Lydia—and it really seemed like it meant something that you stuck around. I wasn’t sure what to do with the whole California thing because I figured we might have scared you off or you were definitely really busy, and I didn’t hear from you, and I know I could have said something, but I honestly haven’t been sure of any of that. So, yeah. I mean, regardless of what any of this means, you’re a lot better than I gave you credit for.”

Lizzy had sped them up while they were walking, but Darcy slowed down and pulled Lizzy over to the side of the pavement, out of the flow of pedestrians. “Look—all of that was—well, you helped me realize what an idiot I was, and I want to be better. In general really, but for you too. I know I’ve still messed things up plenty, and if you want me to leave you alone or just be friends or anything, say the word and I’ll back off But Lizzy—you’re amazing. You’re beautiful and brilliant and incredibly loving to the people in your life, and I would really, really like to date you.”

“Yes.” Lizzy laughed, and Darcy looked slightly dumbfounded, so she rocked up on her toes and gave him a peck on the lips. This didn’t seem to help his confusion, but it made him smile. Lizzy took his hand. “I am in desperate need of food, though—let’s hash it out over dinner.”

…

Darcy flew home a week later, and a week after that he was there to pick Lizzy up when she landed at the airport. She wrapped her arms around him and tucked her head into his chest. He laughed, “Are you happy to see me or just jet lagged?”

“Both. You didn’t have to come get me. I was fine taking the tube back in.”

“Jane is glad you aren’t. And you can sleep in the car while I drive back.”

“Ugh, you might actually be perfect.”

“I’m going to remind you of that later.”

They walked out to the car together, Lizzy with her backpack and Darcy with her suitcase, holding hands as she leaned against him probably more than she would if she’d slept at all. “It’s good to be home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr with questions/prompts/ etc.! @elinordashwoodbutwithmoresnark


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